Gavin
by igaveattheoffice
Summary: Something isn't quite right here... Pls R


Title: Gavin

Author: The one, the only, AnaDi

Summary: Something just isn't right in here

Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd keep Bobby for myself. 

Author's Note: When I requested elements for a challenge, I received a most unusual reply from Rikke. Rather than a list of items to include, she provided a list of quotes from a movie to use in the story(these are underlinedor supposed to be), changing the names a little. After reading them, I decided it was too good to pass up. The quotes are from "The Abyss" and some contain strong language. Just a warning there. 

~GAVIN~

It loomed ahead in the darkness, illuminated by the frequent flashes of lightning as the storm raged on. The blinding rain slashed at them and the wind nearly took their breath away as they slogged through the rainwater in the street.

"There!" Bobby shouted at Lindsay, pointing the way to the massive farm house when lightning lit the route again. It was the only house in a radius of several miles in the rolling Massachusetts countryside.

Struggling, they made their way to the huge front porch and Bobby knocked heavily on the ornate wooden door. There were lights on within the house, emanating a warm glow out into the torrential rain. The door opened a tiny bit. A petite middle aged woman peered out at them in surprise.

"May I help you?" she asked uncertainly and with a little suspicion.

Lindsay pulled her hood off. "Hi, my name is Lindsay Dole, this is my husband Bobby. Our car broke down a little way up the road and yours is the only house around. We hate to impose, but can you give us shelter tonight and let us use your phone in the morning?"

Lindsay looked so little and innocent that the woman agreed to help them. She opened the door wider and allowed them to enter. A man came into the foyer, his expression questioning. "Marilyn? Who is it?"

"These nice people's car broke down and they need a place to stay the night."

Nice to meet you folks. I'm Ben Hart. My wife, Marilyn." He peered at Bobby. "Haven't I seen you somewhere?"

"I'm Bobby Donnell. This is my wife, Lindsay. We're from Boston."

"I know who you are!" Marilyn exclaimed. "You're lawyers. I've seen you on the news! My son is planning on going to law school. He'll love meeting you. Let me take your raincoats." She hung their coats in a closet and motioned them to the cozy looking den. Looking around, Lindsay gasped. The interior of the house was decorated in the Victorian style that was popular when the house had been built. 

"This is magnificent!" she exclaimed in awe. Ben smiled shyly. 

"I've been restoring this house for a while. We're thinking about opening it as a tourist attraction."

"it really is gorgeous."

"I hope so! I've got over four years invested in this project!"

"Yeah, and you only have three years invested in me!" his wife teased affectionately.

"Well, you have to have priorities" he joked.

"Yeah, yeah, " Marilyn rolled her eyes at Lindsay as if to say "men!" "We're both on our second marriage here. You two come in and get warm. We're watching the news."

"Folks in Massachusetts are getting hit by the remnants of Hurricane Fred now. This includes some pretty strong wind and a lot of lightning. Stay indoors tonight, folks!" the weather man said cheerfully.

"Fred, huh? I don't know, man, I think hurricanes should be named after women, don't you?" Ben winked at Lindsay. She gave him a tight-lipped smile in return.

"I agree," Bobby said laughingly, not looking at Lindsay.

"Lindsay, is there anyone you would like to call and let them know you're okay?" Marilyn ignored the jibes of the two men.

"Yes, actually. My best friend is babysitting my son. I'd like to ask her to keep him all night."

"No problem! Uhthat isno problem if you know how to use one of these" she gestured to the old-fashioned wall mounted rotary phone.

"Wow! He really went all out, didn't he?" Lindsay was impressed.

"If you had any idea how many flea markets and antique stores I've been to"

After Marilyn showed her how to work the antique phone, Lindsay spoke briefly to Helen, explaining the situation to her. After a cautionary "Don't do anything I wouldn't do" from Helen ("Is there anything you wouldn't do, Helen?" "Very funny, Linds."), she hung up and returned to the den. "Helen is going to stay with Robbie," she reported to Bobby.

"Good," he answered. Marilyn, meanwhile, opened a door within the den and leaned down a set of narrow stairs.

"Hey Ace!" she yelled, "Are you done impressing yourself? We have company!"

"Coming!" came the muffled reply.

"My son," she said by way of explanation. "he turned the cellar into a private workout center. He's 21." Moments later the young man appeared. He obviously worked out a lot and was showing off his bulging biceps.

"Ace, this is Bobby and Lindsay. They'll be staying the night My son, Mike, or Ace, as we call him.

"Nice to meet you. Excuse my appearance. I'm going to go take a shower." The young man stopped to watch the news report for a moment. "That guy," he pointed to the anchorman, "and the guy on channel seven. They wear the same suit and they both wear it every day. Same tie and everything. It's some kind of conspiracy."

"You think everything's a conspiracy," his mother said impatiently.

"Everything is," Ace replied solemnly before trudging up the stairs.

"Big X-Files fan," Ben informed Bobby and Lindsay. "Now he can find a conspiracy in everything." Bobby nodded sagely.

"It's nearly eleven, I imagine you'd like to get some sleep," Marilyn said at the end of the news broadcast. We have a guest bedroom with a double bed in it. I'll put some sheets on it for you."

"Let me help," Lindsay jumped to her feet, despite her hostess' objections. She followed Marilyn up the stairs and into a bedroom. It too was decorated in exquisite Victorian fashion.

"How long have you and Bobby been married?" Marilyn asked conversationally as the two women made up the bed with fresh cotton sheets.

"About three years."

"How old is your son?"

"He's not quite two."

"Ah, I remember when Michael was that age. He was a little devil."

"Robbie isn't quite a devil, although he's certainly no angel!" Lindsay laughed.

Marilyn grew quiet. Lindsay was afraid she'd said something wrong.

"Marilyn? Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry. That just got me thinking." She sighed and smiled as though lost in a memory. "Gavin was a perfect little angel at that age."

"Gavin?"

"My second son. Hehe and his father were in an accident when he was ten. He'd be thirteen now."

"I'm sorry," Lindsay said gently. It must be awful to lose a child.

"Sometimes," Marilyn said softly, "Sometimes I can almost still hear his voice in the house. When it's empty. Or I hear steps on the ceiling above me, in his old room." Lindsay shivered involuntarily.

"I apologize. I have no idea why I let myself go with that. I hope you sleep well tonight." Marilyn was suddenly all smiles again, but the cheer in her voice was false.

"Thank you for everything," Lindsay said sincerely.

Bobby soon found his way to the bedroom. "These are some terrific people, Linds, aren't they?"

"Yes, but oh, Bobby! I think this house is haunted!"

"Oh, come on. Haunted? That's silly, Lindsay, Let's get some sleep."

"But Bobby-"

"Please, Lindsay, Calm down."

"Yeah I'm calm. I'm a calm person. Is there any reason why I shouldn't be calm?"

"I don't know," Bobby yawned, " But the idea of a haunted house isn't one. That conspiracy kid has you weirded out." He fell asleep almost instantly and Lindsay soon drifted off beside him.

A short time later, Bobby was awakened by a sound in the room. "Did you hear that?" he asked groggily. Lindsay's lack of response told him that she was asleep. "Dreaming" he muttered. He was almost asleep again when he heard it again. It sounded like a dresser drawer being slammed shut. He could see nothing in the inky blackness of the room. The sound repeated, this time waking Lindsay as well.

"What the hell?" Bobby demanded aloud. 

"He's just a kid," Lindsay murmured.

"Who?"

"Gavin. The ghost."

"Yes," a childish voice chimed in. "But don't call me that, ok? I HATE that!"

"All right then, "Bobby sat up, annoyed. "What would you like us to call you? sir'?"

"Bobby!" Lindsay admonished.

The voice giggled. "No," it said, "Just don't call me a ghost."

Bobby turned on a lamp next to the bed. "Jesus!" he exclaimed as he turned to meet the eyes of a little brown haired boy with bright green eyes.

"That's not nice," the child said reproachfully.

"Sorry," Bobby said automatically.

Lindsay spoke to the little boy. "Gavin, honey, why are you in here?"

He shrugged. "Just playing. It's fun to mess with people and scare em."

"I'll be back, Lindsay" Bobby slipped from the room. He returned about a minute later with their raincoats.

"Here." He handed Lindsay hers.

"What are you doing? We aren't going back out there!"

"Don't argue with me, God damn it! Just put it on!" his eyes blazed.

"No! Now look, this is not an option, so just forget it, alright?" She practically yelled.

Lindsay, shut up!" he hissed. "Shut up and put this on!"

"Would you be logical for once? What is the matter with you?"

"Fuck logic! This place is creepy!"

"You say some bad things," Gavin's ghost said reproachfully to Bobby.

"Gavin, honey," Lindsay said gently, "Bobby and I would like to go back to sleep. Why don't you go on up to your room."

Ohh, ok," he pouted, then flashed a smile before vanishing-literally.

"Jesus!" Bobby said again.

"Don't talk like that," Lindsay said sharply. "We're not going back into the storm, either. Just go back to sleep."

Bobby looked edgy, but her tone left no room for argument. She was soon breathing deeply and evenly, signalling sleep, but Bobby shook her gently.

"Hey, Linds"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah? I'm not!" she said irritably.

""You keep me level-headed," he said softly.

"Oh, Bobby," she turned, tears in her eyes. It's so sad. He was only ten. It was a car accident."

"I know, I know," Bobby soothed. "But he seems perfectly happy. Creepy, but happy."

"It makes me wish I was at home with my little boy."

"We will be tomorrow. Think Helen will believe this?" Bobby joked.

"Yeah right! Good night, Bobby."

"Good night, sweetheart."

THE END


End file.
